Ceremonies of Innocence

by Persephone

Rupert Giles removed his glasses and began vigorously rubbing the bridge of his nose. It was a habit that he'd adopted with his tenure on the Hellmouth. It was a comforting, if less than effective way of trying to stave off a headache. Another unfortunate side effect to being the Slayer's Watcher as well as her new step-father. The inevitability of something unexpected happening or going wrong was practically assured no matter how well you planned things.

Certainly, he had not expected anyone save Angel to answer his telephone. Especially not when he knew that as a rule, Angel tried very hard to keep his distance from most people. The Slayer and her friends included in that. So, Giles had to admit that his interest was piqued by the feminine voice answering the phone and the now muffled voices in the background. Obviously, Angel had a friend. Any other time and Giles would have respected Angel's right to privacy, but with London now showing signs of becoming a Hellmouth to rival Sunnydale in potency, he simply couldn't help but feel it might be important to know. This person, whoever she was, could possibly figure into future events--especially if she was a friend of Angel's. That alone made it important for the Watcher to, well... pry? It was his duty to do what he could to aid the Slayer and information-seeking was what Giles did best.

'So why do I feel so uncomfortable?' Giles wondered though he knew the answer to that.

Because this was Angel he was dealing with. The vampire didn't really allow anyone save Buffy to probe into his personal life. And the only reason Buffy got away with it was because she was Buffy and Angel had loved her very much at one time. Giles was willing to wager that Angel was still in love with her even though they had drifted apart. He had been glad of their parting of ways. Angel was a valuable ally but no matter how poetic it might be for a vampire to be in love with a Slayer or vice versa, their whole relationship was doomed from the outset by their very natures. He had been less than reassured by the change in the vampire since the restoration of his soul and his return. True, Angel was good once again but that goodness was tempered with a wildness that bothered the Watcher. The demon was closer to the surface than he had been before...before Angel had become Angelus. Before Jenny had...

His heart constricted. Even though he had married Joyce Summers, even though he loved Joyce with an intensity that sometimes frightened even him, he couldn't forget Jenny. Nor did he want to. She had given him a passion that he hadn't been aware existed, one that he now gave to Joyce in rememberance of his lost love. She was a part of him, now and forever. A bittersweet memory of what might have been.

Memento mori, Jenny. Memento mori.

It was the memory of Jenny that made him try to forgive Angel for what Angelus had done. And it was the memory of Jenny that made it precisely so hard to do that. Angel had not been himself when he had murdered the computer teacher/gypsy--it was easy to say that, to understand it intellectually. But it didn't mean that the anger didn't rise up whenever he saw the vampire. Of late, it had been getting easier to deal with that anger, to see past the body to the soul of the man. In part, that was due to Angel's relocation to L.A. and his clear willingness to...how did Buffy say it? To pitch in when the going got hairy? The cursed vampire's desire to make amends touched him, had eased some of tension between them. But not completely. Jenny's ghost hung between them, always just nearby and unseen, but there. A reminder that some things could not be changed or rectified.

And Giles had the feeling that was the way it would always be, despite Buffy's efforts, despite Angel's, even despite his own.

"What can I do for you, Giles?" Angel immediately appropriated the conversation, cutting out the Watcher's musings and bringing him back to the manner at hand.

"Ah, Angel. How are things? How is England?" Giles winced; he never had been very good at small talk. Still, he made the effort.

"Foggy, damp, and cold. Is there anything in particular you wanted to talk about or was this just a social call?" Angel sounded tense, almost...distracted?

"I called to check-in with you actually. How are things faring in London?"

He had the vampire's attention now. "You were right," Angel informed him somberly, "London is showing increased signs of supernatural activity. There have been a spree of deaths among the homeless--the police are trying to pass it off as natural causes to avoid a panic. So far, no one is really questioning it."

"Why should they?" Giles couldn't help, but sound a little bitter, "After all, no one of any importance is being taken. And it reduces as Dickens so quaintly put it 'the surplus population.' Ignore what you can't explain and it's sure to go away--typical closemindeness."

"Well, I, for one am glad that no one is paying too much attention."

'Of course, he would be,' Giles thought. If someone actually did begin seriously investigating the deaths or heaven forbid, actually suggest a less than natural reason for those deaths, the vampire community would be adversely affected. And Angel, even if he lived only on the fringes of that society, would be as well.

"What bothers me," Angel was saying, "is not that they're taking these people. There's nothing surprising there. What worries me is the speed and numbers of the attacks."

"You suspect something might be up?" Giles asked shrewdly.

"Possibly," Angel replied, though his tone implied he thought it was a certainty. "It's like the local vamps are trying to build their strength up by gorging themselves. And no one is talking. I've tried several sources and they're all either completely ignorant or...."

"Or?"

"Or something has them frightened. Something or someone has frightened the undead community into silence. Hell, I can't even find out who the local leader is here. "

"Oh dear," Giles pondered. "This does not seem to bode well. "

"No," Angel agreed, "I'll keep trying though it may take less than kosher means to get the information."

Giles decided not to comment on that last remark. He had a feeling that he really didn't want to know what qualified as 'less than kosher' means in Angel's eyes. There were some things that were just better left unsaid.

"Good. Anything else?"

"Yeah. There have been a number of odd occurances of late. Not enough for the general public to take notice but they appear to be increasing in frequency."

"Such as?" Giles queried.

"Sightings of ghosts for one. One man claimed that he was walking past St. Paul's a week ago when Christopher Wren stopped and introduced himself. Said that the architect asked him what he thought of his cathedral," Angel sounded amused at that one, "I guess even the dead have egos. Also, a graveyard near Chelesea was found with all its coffins lying open on the ground and all the bodies missing. Nor have they been found. An attack by a wild, unusually large dog in Hyde Park--does Oz have a British cousin? One woman in Hampstead reported turning on her bath only to have snakes slither out instead of water--not just one snake but dozens. People spontaneously combusting or speaking in tongues is another point of interest. There are others, but I'm sure you get the idea."

"Quite. It would seem we have the makings of another apocalypse," Giles said before adding with a sigh, "Again."

"Yes," Angel sounded no more happy about it than the Watcher did. "When can I expect you and Buffy out here?"

"It will be another week, I'm afraid," the Watcher said apologetically, "I've arranged for Buffy to take her finals early but I'm afraid that with the college's bureaucracy that next week is the best I could manage. And as much as I would like to come on out there, Joyce will not permit Buffy to miss her finals, possibly failing her classes."

"How are her grades?"

"Hanging by a thread," Giles replied with a bit of displeasure, "No matter how hard Willow or I try to help her, Buffy's mind seems to be elsewhere when it comes to school work. It is really quite trying because I know she can do so much more. She may have her teachers fooled but I know that there's a keen intellect in that head of hers."

"Giles, you sound like a parent," Angel teased.

"I am a parent. Well," he amended, "a step-parent, at any rate."

There was a lull in the conversation. Giles wondered if this would be the right time to broach the subject of the female voice who answered the phone earlier. Wondered how Angel would react. Wondered if it were really any of his business or if he just wanted to know so he could give Buffy advanced warning in case Angel had found someone new. Though she had begun dating other people, Giles harbored no illusions about the torch the Slayer carried for Angel. And seeing him with someone else unprepared would hurt her quite badly. 'So am I her Watcher or her parent?' he debated. 'Did it even matter?'

"Well, I do hope you are being careful." Giles replied cautiously.

"Careful?"

"About who you're talking to. This sort of information in the wrong hands..." Giles trailed off delicately.

Had he been human, Angel probably would have responded to that with a sharp intake of breath. The silence though spoke volumes and the Watcher began to feel he had crossed into uncharted, potentially explosive territory. When Angel finally spoke, he knew he wasn't imagining the edge to the other man's voice, "This is about Cat, isn't it?"

"Cat?" Giles asked innocently, filing that name away for future reference. "Would that be the lady I spoke with earlier?"

"Giles, you're about as subtle as a thunderstorm."

"I take it that is a yes?"

Another silence. "Yes," Angel answered unhappily.

"Might I ask who she is?"

"Might I say that it is none of your business," Angel snapped. The veiled warning in his voice was now quite clear: back off.

"Angel," Giles said quite firmly, "As the Watcher to the Slayer, it most certainly is my business. Who is this person? What exactly have you told her?"

"About you and Buffy, nothing."

"What about vampires?"

The pause this time was uncomfortable. Giles could feel his agitation growing with each passing moment. "Angel?"

"She was attacked by a vampire. I saved her. She saw what the vampire was during the fight. Satisfied?" Angel answered sullenly.

"I should say not. Did you even try to convince her that what she saw might have been a trick of light? Or hysteria?"

"Cat's not like other people," Angel replied. He sounded almost amused. Almost.

"Pretty, is she?"

"That's not what I meant," Angel shot back immediately.

"Then what did you mean?" Giles found with each passing year he was growing tired of secrets. While sometimes necessary, all secrets seemed to do most of the time was cause more trouble than they were worth.

"Nothing," Angel said. They both knew he was lying as soon as he said the words. For Angel to lie...Giles rubbed his forehead worriedly.

"Angel--"

"Listen, Giles. I have a very headstrong, confused girl to deal with right now. I'll get back to you in a few days."

"But Angel--" Giles began protesting.

The phone clicked audibly as the other line hung up. Giles stared at the blue receiver darkly before replacing it in the cradle. Removing his glasses again, he rubbed his eyes vigorously. It didn't help.

"What the bloody hell is going on there?" he wondered aloud.

"Honey?"

Turning in his seat, Giles saw his wife standing in the door frame, gazing at him in obvious concern. She had a cup of tea in one hand, which she extended towards him. He took the tea, casting her a grateful look as she sat down next to him.

"Is something wrong?" Joyce Summers-Giles asked softly.

He studied her, the fall of her curling blond hair around her oval face. Her eyes--eyes that her daughter had inherited, were filled with loving worry. Giles still had trouble believing she had actually consented to be his wife. After Jenny... well, after Jenny, he had thought he would never love anyone that much again. How glad he was that Joyce had proved him wrong. It was just that he hated her having to worry. There was nothing he could do to ease or change that burden. If anything by marrying her, he had only increased it. Now, she not only had Buffy to wonder and worry about but him as well. Still, she bore it better than anyone had a right to, continually amazing him every day. Taking her hand, he gave her a warm smile, "Nothing that a cup of tea and a quiet evening with you can't help, my dear."

Joyce smiled in return, a secret smile of understanding, as she squeezed his hand in return. "Liar."

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